Rain: Ditzy
by Iwilo
Summary: "came a storm in the form of a girl. It blew to pieces my snug little world Sometimes I swear I can still hear her howl... She ain't coming back no more  She ain't coming back no more... And it ain't gonna rain anymore" - Nick Cave & The Bad Seed


Long, green fingers cradle an open book upon a wide, spread palm. The book is long and wide, thin when closed; the cover thin. The print within is blocky and bold, loud and angry looking in hues of red and stark black. There is much punctuation.

A second hand appears over the spread pages that droop apart like broken wings. It hovers, indecisive. The long, pink claw at the end of it taps the page; straightens and underlines a few lines of text, pausing here and there as the reader lets out a few pensive sounds followed by a derisive snort.

The hand moves and bracelets jangle as the page is turned to reveal a very close and grainy image of an erect penis. The image takes up two pages, the spine cutting right down the center. A cartoon bomb has been drawn on the exposed glans. A crude smiling face has been drawn on the bomb, all in black. The penis is bright green, as is the hand that holds it. The stubbly hair visible in the upper right corner is black.

The reader is silent, the hand moving immediately to turn the page and then pausing, the hand moving away as the page is lifted, lifted, lifted to meet a green nose. Ditzy spits out the wad of her sunshine-yellow (piss) hair that she's been chewing. Pink lipstick coats several of the strands.

"**I KNEW IT!"** she exclaims as she jabs a finger at the lower left corner of the page, the blurred area of what appears to be a thigh. She whips her giant melon head around, pigtails flying as she pokes the page loudly and grins, wild-eyed at a passing orc**. "They painted ovar his fuckin' tattoo!"** she howls delightedly. The young, olive-skinned merchant gives her a derisive snort and shakes his head as he stalks off. His movements are jerky and he finds it difficult not to turn and make sure the crazy goblin in the sparkling green bodysuit isn't following him. Her face is painted in a grotesque mockery of the cosmetics favored by the lesser races: blood elves and such. If it is a war paint, she fights a war against beauty.

"**Rude!"** Ditzy holds up a fist at the retreating orc and ejects her middle finger. He's forgotten quickly as she turns back to the page and flips it. Bored.

She sits in the center of the wide dirt road that runs through lower Orgrimmar. Her legs stick straight out. Her shoes are equal parts ugly and tall and bright, bright green. The streets are sparsely populated for the time of day. Dark clouds have formed overhead and the vendors have long cleared out. Someone has been thoughtful enough to cover the nearby mailbox against the expected downpour.

Someone else has been thoughtful enough to take a stick to scratch the words, _Run A Way Frum It_ into the dirt behind Ditzy's ass. A crude arrow points to her behind. Not everyone is exceptionally literate here. It's the thought that counts.

"**Ooohooohooo,"** she licks her lips and blinks false and crustily painted eyelashes at the following page. According to the block print that dominates the top of the page, Gobboomco preassembled metal casings are now available in sparkleteal075, hotpink032 … **"Suck my dick that is so cooowaaaall!"** … burntfacelavender058, and…

A drop of water, fat like the goblin's hips, explodes somewhere between the words "_most fucked up deal ever"_ and _"act now unless you're a retard."_

"Aright, what the shit?" The answer comes in the form of rain. Rain dumps on her head, instantly soaking her hair and pasting it down. It doesn't darken the way blond hair should. It looks brighter against the rest of the world which has suddenly gone gray. The green goblin in the green bodysuit with the alien and ugly green shoes leaps to her feet.

Ditzy shrieks in outrage as the clouds darken, near-black in some places. It is suddenly night in the middle of the day. Those who have foreseen what Ditzy considers to be the greatest disaster since the last time a storm fucked her day up, i.e. every citizen of Orgimmar, have already lit torches and lanterns within their shops and apartments.

Mud flies in all directions as the goblin shakes her head and bares her teeth, makeup in every mismatched hue bleeding from huge eyes to coat her cheeks, mouth and chin. Her fists fly at the drops as if she would beat the rain into submission. Huge breasts sway and bounce within the strained confines of her low-cut bodysuit. Her caterwauling can be heard over the hiss of rain.

"Bolts you asshole! Oh you fuckin' bitch! I can't fuckin' beLIEVE this bullshit! SCREWS YA GOTTA BE KIDDIN' ME CAN YA NOT SEE I'M TRYIN' TA FUCKIN' REAAAAD HEEERE?"

After a good ten minutes of shrieking and stomping, flailing and more shrieking, she is interrupted by the flash and clap of thunder.

Black pupils grow huge, overtaking much of red irises. The corners of her lips pull down, her mouth becoming long. Ditzy blinks. "I peed," she whispers in awe. Then she is howling in terror, stomping for her life in ugly shoes toward the inn and tavern. "I NEED A FUCKIN' TOWUUUUUUL!"

No less than six early drinkers decide to brave the storm, leaving hurriedly shortly after the goblin rushes through the door.

* * *

End.

Tinkin' ahbout rehn dis moahnin'. :)

~I'wilo


End file.
